Page 76 of Secret Obsession
Miles hasn’t moved.
“Do you have class or…?”
He lifts one shoulder. “Not ’til nine-fifteen.”
“Okay. See you…”
“I’ll drive you,” he says suddenly, ripping open the front door.
An icy blast sweeps into the house, ruffling my wet hair. I wasgoingto walk, since I’m pretty sure my car is still at my apartment. I actually should’ve just grabbed it yesterday, but I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about much of anything except murder and break-ins and the pain in my foot, which suddenly jumps to the forefront of my mind.
He leaves me standing there.
I hurry after him, biting my tongue against snapping at him.
Is it his fault I’m late?
Maybe.
I pat down my pockets, belatedly realizing I don’t even have my phone.
So maybe itismy fault for being late, since I didn’t give a shit about my phone or an alarm or anything like that. I just let Miles do whatever he wanted to me, without any resistance…
Shame hits me square in the gut. It streams through me, but I refuse to linger on it. I slide into the passenger seat and hunch forward. It’scold. So much more fucking cold than any day so far this winter. It makes me wish I had my hat and gloves, and a scarf, and a hot coffee.
Coffee is only for those who wake up on time, though.
Miles speeds to campus, and I’m out and jogging away before he’s even put it in park.
I make it to the classroom at 7:58. The professor is already at the front of the class, and I stride to my seat quickly. I smile at the professor, who smiles back.
The girl beside me, however, gives me a dirty look.
I sigh as my mood plummets.
Funny how fast that can happen.
23
MILES
Ilied. I only have one class on Monday. My Tuesday and Thursday schedule is a bit busier—three classes—but I’d also be lying if I said my schedule was difficult by any stretch of the imagination.
I follow the path Willow took, albeit at a much slower pace. I pass the classroom she’s in, making sure to spot her. I love that she’s wearing the shirt and jeans I picked out, and she didn’t even comment on them. I should’ve checked about her panties—but since I hid them, I’m pretty confident she’s not wearing anything else. And her nipples made their appearance through her shirt, visible through her gaping-open jacket, verifying that she didn’t try to sneak on a bra. Which, again, would’ve been possible if I hadn’t hidden them.
Now, she’s got her jacket zipped up and protecting those perky breasts from view. There’s a little berth around her, which satisfies me somewhat. It’s not like I set out to start rumors about her.
My brother made it easy, however. He didn’t deny when I told Erik and Amanda over winter break that Willow broke up with him. I may have fed them some line about how devastated Knox was over it and that I hoped his game didn’t worsen due to his heartache.
Knox eats that shit up. He’s the definition of an attention-whore.
Not Willow.
I still can’t really fathom how she developed feelings for the asshole.
Downstairs is one of the other, lesser-used dining options. It’s quieter and more of a grab-and-pay type of place. As opposed to the dining hall, where you just swipe to enter, then eat as much as your stomach can handle.
“Hi, Miles!” a girl calls.
